Pint Sized Prisoner
by Neko-hanyou05
Summary: After being convicted to Azkaban for life by his friends, Harry spends his time annoying Aurors and slowly going insane like any other normal convict. A few years later, Harry is transformed into a 5 year old and feels its time for payback! HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1

The Auror twirled his wand as he walked down the dark and cold hallway of Azkaban Wizarding Prison. His shift was finally over and it was time for the night crew to take over, he however would be going home to his family many miles away. As he walked by one of the dank cells he heard a raspy singsong voice

"Pretty lights are gone gone gone....." there was a little snicker, "why'd they have to go? The night is falling, your wife is calling you home home home..."

The Auror rapped on the bars with his wand, "Silence you little-" He was cut off when a thin white hand shot out and grasped the wand in a tight grip. Bright green eyes peered out at him with a cold glint from the darkness. The Auror yanked on his wand, more than a little unnerved by the eyes watching him and it came free easily from the emaciated prisoners hand. The eyes looked down at the hand as it flexed as if new.

"So much is taken for granted..." the soft whisper sounded sinister to the mans ears. "until it is taken away." The Auror was pinned by the intense gaze again. "Have you anything to miss? To yearn for when its all gone? Is it already too late?" Boney fingers pointed at the man as the eyes looked away, "Beware those who disappear when you look away, they may cost you your daughter."

Harry curled up in his familiar corner as the Auror hurried away to his family. His talent at Legillimency had served as an amusing hobby during his stay here these past few years. How many it's been he couldn't recall anymore. He cradled his hand in his lap, savouring the residual feeling of magic lingering on them. It was almost like a drug, the magic that is. Constantly wishing for more, doing anything for one more time, one more chance to feel that rush of magic through his body.

"One, one more..." Harry groaned and he curled up in his tattered prison clothes. Another cold chill passed through his body and Harry heard the whispers of long gone memories. He groaned again and held his head, this darkness calling for his mind was never pleasant. As the Dementors glided by to more fresh victims, Harry struggled to remain conscious. The screams blurred and the flashes of light were lost to him.

Men in black robes filtered into the hallway, firing off spells that blew the bars of the cells off the walls. The white skull masks flashed different colours as they removed the prisoners from captivity. One Death Eater stopped outside the fallen heros cell. Removing the bars, he went up to the crumpled figure convulsing on the floor. A hand grabbed the matted black hair and tilted it up, the other hand grabbing a vial from the mans robe. The metallic blue liquid inside sparkled as it was uncorked and put to the young convicts lips.

"Drink." the voice hissed, pushing the vial more insistantly towards Harry.

Unable to understand much beyond simple commands, Harry did. It went down slowly, like a venemous slug oozing its way along. It was almost completely done when another Death Eater rushed in and grabbed hold of the other, yanking him away and causing the vial to drop to the floor with a few drops left.

The first Death Eater jerked his robe out of the others' grasp. "What are you doing? You dolt!" he hissed. He hurried back into the cell and looked for the vial. He picked it up and inspected it in a lumos light, the remaining drops splattered on the floor, unnoticed. Satisfied that it was empty, the Death Eater left, dragging the other with him.

Harry turned onto his side, choking on the liquid and spitting up a bit. Pain raked through his body and Harry was afraid his arm was being sawed off with a spoon. Enternitys later Harry fell unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry awoke to the same cold floor of his prison cell. He lifted a hand to his head and winced. Why had he fallen asleep in such a weird position?

'I must have passed out from the Dementors... again.' Harry wanted to shake his head. One of these days he'll have to remember to crawl into the corner first. He slid a hand behind him to push himself up and gasped in surprise as his hand was cut open on a piece of jagged rock. His eyes whipped open and he looked around his ruined cell.

'When did this happen?' Harry wondered as he sat up, cradling his hand in his lap. He frowned. 'When did my cell get so big?' He looked down at his hand to tend to it when he realized that they were small and pudgy. Like a child's hands. Startled at this discovery, Harry stood and looked around. No sound came from the other cells. Not even the rustle of clothing or groan of nightmares ravishing a mind. Careful to step over the rubble with his now short legs in too long prisoner pants, Harry wandered down the hall. Everything was blown open and there were no more prisoners in this area.

An hour later Harry sat down on a staircase in the first level. There was nothing here! No guards, dementors, prisoners or corpses! Noticing that his hand was stinging, Harry made his way to the guards' office. He found some bandages and wrapped his hand crudely. Finding a robe, he removed the prisoner outfit and put it on instead; loving the feel of the soft fabric after the threadbare pieces of rug he used to be wearing. He drew the entire cloth close and snuggled it like a teddy bear. Harry sat in a corner of the room and thought deeply, crinkling his flawless forehead. So far, he had concluded that he was in his five or so year old body, yet he still had all of his memories other than those of last night.

Suddenly, the floo flashed and an extremely tall person landed on the other side of the desk in the middle of the room from Harry. Struck by a sudden and gripping fear at this strange person, Harry scurried under the desk as fast as his hands and knees could get him there. He wrapped the robe around his drawn up knees and peered out between his fringe and the robe. Had the person seen him? Why was he so afraid in the first place?

Hearing no movement for a few moments, Harry was just about to relax when a wand was stuck under his nose. Harry squeaked and froze, fearful to move. He felt warm lines flowing down his cheeks and his vision go blurry as a bright pink blob appeared in front of him.

The person gasped and a black clad body followed the wand and head in the back of the desk.

"Hello little boy," The voice crooned soothingly. "What's your name?"

Harry thought for a moment then decided that he didn't like this lady enough to tell her his name. "No." He sniffled defiantly. "Go 'way. "

The person hesitated and a man called out to see if she was alright. The lady made a motion with her hand then reached out to Harry again. "Come on, I'll take you somewhere safe, alright?"

Harry considered her hand for a moment. Could he trust her to take him away from this cold place of death and despair? He reached out and gingerly put his hand in hers. She smiled a blurry smile and lead Harry out from under the desk. He only came up to her mid thigh and Harry knew that he wouldn't have been able to escape the desk if he had tried. He was just too small to be on his own now, too young to function in the world without suspicion or rules blocking his way. Being short didn't help much either.

The lady led him out of the office and down the corridor. As she walked she spoke. "My name is Nymphadora Tonks, but you can call me Tonks for short. And I still don't know your name." She trailed off, leaving the question unsaid.

Harry dug around in his mind. What should he tell this 'Tonks' lady? Though the name sounded vaguely familiar, he shrugged it off, instead trying to keep up his charade that he wasn't a prisoner.

"My name is.... uhhh..." he looked around for some inspiration and only found the walls and cells. Spotting something on the floor he chirped, "Mousie! My name is Mousie...."

Tonks looked down at him, oh how he hated being short! Her eyebrow was raised in question. "Really now? How did you come across that name?"

Harry floundered. "Well... its reawey Sir Mousie the Magni... magnifew... the Magninfiesent but I thought tha' 'cause you have a short name I can too!" Harry declared, tripping over the large words on his under-used tongue.

Tonks giggled. "Well then, Sir Mousie the Magnificent, how about we go and get some hot chocolate? I know a place with really yummy-"

"Chocolate!" Harry squealed, bouncing up and down beside her. "I wuv chocolate!" he rushed forward, trying to pull her with him in excitement. They made their way down to the boats on the misty shore and climbed inside one, heading for the mainland, Harry focusing on the distant memory of warmth, love, and chocolate.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I know Tonks arrived by floo but I didn't want them to go back that way, needed them to walk some.


End file.
